Together, Not Apart
by storywriter30
Summary: If fate planned on taking one, he hoped they wouldn't just leave the other. A post-Berlin, pre-Revenge tag.
1. Part I: McGee

**A/N: Post Berlin, Pre-Revenge tag. **

* * *

He is already a bit aggravated. They'd done all this work. He'd pissed Tony off to no end. And it was all for nothing.

Not nothing, but Yaniv Bodnar certainly isn't what he thought all his sleepless nights filled with Ziva couriered Thai food would yield. I mean, the little brother accomplice? He could've written something better that.

He picks up his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. Reaching up to turn off his desk lamp, he is interrupted by the buzzing of his cell phone in his pocket.

_SSA Gibbs_

"Boss?"

"Bethesda." He says. And then there is a beat because he knows in his bones that it isn't a dead body but he doesn't want to ask whom. "Your partners were hit by a truck."

"Both of them? What do you mean?"

"Car crash." Gibbs provides.

"Together?"

"McGee, you coming or not?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'll be right there."

* * *

So Gibbs is both of their secondary emergency contacts and he takes up third. But the thing is, if he were one of them, which most days he is thankful he is not, he wouldn't have the guts to accept a position as emergency contact.

Because standing here with Gibbs, McGee is oddly glad that both of them are in surgery. He is glad that both of his partners are in serious condition, because imagine if something had happened to only one of them. Imagine if just Ziva's insides had been impaled with shards of the front windshield or God forbid it was just Tony with a possible brain bleed.

He'd have to deal with the other. The other would have to deal. And he really just doesn't think that any of them could handle of that. None of NCIS's most famous Agent trio had it in them to deal with that. Certainly not one half of the whole of their dynamic duo.

So if he is going to be the only one left – that's fine. Whatever they did, they did together and over the years, McGee has grown accustomed to that. So if one of them went today, then both of them were going to go.

* * *

Of course, fate isn't kind to them. Never has been, never will be. That's how he found himself standing next to Ziva. A battered Ziva, one he might even dare to compare to Somalia Ziva and that was something he had swore he would never see again.

But here she is. Breathing labored. Hand clutching her bandaged abdomen. And tears silently streaming down her face.

"Ziva –"

She cuts him off with a swift shake of the head and a sharp swipe below her eye. "Don't, McGee."

"I was just going to ask if I could get you anything." Blatant lie. He was going to try and say something comforting. Something like, _he'll be okay, Ziva._

"Oh." She looks over at him. "Could you pass me that water?"

He does without comment, mostly because she looks so much like a scared little girl that it makes him sick to his stomach.

He holds the water as she sips.

"Is Gibbs with –"

He cuts her off with his own nod this time, mostly because he doesn't want to hear the way her voice catches when she speaks Tony's name. It had nearly killed him the last time.

She looks down then. And he feels terrible. He doesn't know what to do. So he takes a step back and pulls the chair over towards her bed. They never talk about it. None of them. It is this unspoken understanding between the three of them that despite the fact that all of them would give their lives for each other, something is different between Tony and Ziva.

And that difference has only been growing since Dearing blew up the Navy Yard.

He's not sure what other people define them as, but he would say fatal opposite attraction. But maybe fatal is the wrong word. They've saved each other before and he hopes, he knows they'll save each other again. Maybe not today, but hopefully tomorrow.

"You and I…" he begins, "We can talk…if you want."

She is a little stunned by his admission. Like she's surprised he knows who she's thinking about. He can tell by the way her shoulders stiffen and her eyes jerk towards him.

"I am…tired." She responds.

He nods and though he doesn't believe her, he gets up, rubs her shoulder and walks out of the room.

* * *

"How is he?" He comes up beside Gibbs and peers through the glass into his other partner's Intensive Care Unit room.

"Stable enough." His Boss' eyes stay fixed on the monitors in the room. He watches Tony's steady heartbeat and the knowledge that he's getting enough oxygen through the tube down his throat.

"Any idea as to when they'll wake him up?"

"Not until the swelling goes down."

McGee nods. And then looks at Gibbs. "She wouldn't really talk to me."

Gibbs turns and regards him. And then he shrugs. "Eh," he says, "She's Ziva, McGee. Bodnar's still out there and then there's this. What'd you expect?"

"Are _you_ going to try?"

"If she's ready." And then Gibbs walks away and he's left just staring at Tony. Willing him to wake up. Because, if he was left with the functional mute and some grief stricken – revenge driven Ziva, things would be so ugly.

* * *

Eventually, he leaves Tony's window and makes his way back to the step-down unit. He watches Ziva sleep for some undetermined period of time. He feels like he's stuck somewhere in a Deep Six fanfiction – McGregor watching Tommy and Lisa. It wouldn't be real Deep Six because he'd never put his characters through this much pain. And even if he did, Tony and Ziva would castrate him when it went to print.

She mumbles a lot in her sleep and winces and her heart rate accelerates and levels many times. The nurse comes back and forth and she wearily regards him each time so he flashes his badge and then she asks if he needs anything.

After sunset, she wakes. He gives her a few minutes before going in. Silently, he sits down in the chair beside her bed.

She shakes her head at him. "How long were you there?"

"Just watching making sure you don't need anything."

"I'm fine, McGee." And her tone leaves no room for negotiation so he nods and gets back up and it's just as he's made it to the door that she speaks again.

"I was happy."

He turns back and cocks his head to the side. He purses his lips and waits for her to continue because evidently she's ready and she wants to talk.

"Right before we crashed, he was holding my hand and I was happy." She looks up at him, tears streaming down her face, but a smile coming across her mouth. "That's all I remember." She shrugged.

He gives a solemn nod because he's sure she only wants validation. He pushes off the door and, rather than sitting back in the chair, he sits beside her on the bed. "He won't leave you alone, Ziva."

Because that's not how they're made.


	2. Part II: Gibbs

**A/N: I had no original plans of making this more than a one-shot tag, but...yet, here we are. **

* * *

**Part II: Gibbs**

After clearing his head, he goes to check on Ziva. And that's when he finds her shivering in her other partner's arms. Choking on sobs and trying hard to control herself and failing miserably.

It's always been there and real and unstable and unpredictable. But, now, the thing between his DiNozzo and David is open and raw. He doesn't know how far it's gotten. He doesn't need to. He has suspicions, but they really don't matter. It's been clear for months. The embers were coming. He just didn't think they'd fall like this.

* * *

He heads back to the ICU. There's no change in Tony's condition. He wasn't expecting one. He just wants to watch him. He wants to telepathically tell DiNozzo he better think twice before doing this to Ziva.

To all of them. But mostly to Ziva.

He's not sure how he allowed himself to get so protective of her. Maybe it was the idea that she felt as though she was alone in the world. He knew what that felt like. And for some reason, he's never wanted her to feel like that.

He's just always liked Ziva. She became one of them so fast. And he just…he learned to read her and then things spiraled, and it made him even more protective of her.

So if she needs DiNozzo and he's pretty sure that she does. He doesn't really care about what type of capacity that is. Then, DiNozzo better stick around for her.

The said Senior Field Agent's nurse approaches him. Her name is Carly. She looks like she's fifteen, but he's heard her speaking with the doctors and he knows she's the one he wants taking care of DiNozzo.

She smiles at him and he can't help but ask how Tony's doing. She's calm when she says no change. But her eyes are hopeful and he holds onto that because if there was ever a time where he felt like they could live without each other, it wasn't now.

He shakes his head. Ziva could do it. She had the strength to live through almost anything. But it wouldn't pretty and it would hurt to watch.

After all she's been through, if this is what she wants, if this is what she needs, then she deserves to have it.

* * *

The sun rises the next morning and he's still sitting in the recliner next to Ziva's bed. There's more color in her face today.

And she's carefully regarding him when he opens his eyes.

"Hi, Ziver," It's a knowing greeting that he gives. But at least it causes a ghost of a smile to come across her face.

"Gibbs," she responds.

"How ya' feelin?"

"Better than yesterday, but…not healthy as a cow."

He thinks about correcting her but that's another reason why DiNozzo better stick around.

They sit in silence for a long time. Part of him hopes that she'll fall back asleep because that ghost of smile that he saw has long been replaced by a straight line. Her eyes didn't twinkle then and they certainly don't now. He thinks that she looks deep inside of herself – lost almost – like she's missing half of herself.

He can't allow himself to read too much into that observation. It in itself is a little too much for him already.

"Gibbs," she begins and it causes him to look up at her again. "I . . . I have never liked to keeping things from you."

"Hey," he reaches over taps her wrist and he knows that they both remember the last time that he did that, "you know that I understand about Bodnar."

She nods and it's furious and desperate. "Yes, yes I do, but…but that," she swallows and inhales raggedly, "It is not about that, though."

"Oh."

"I…well…you see," She doesn't realize that she's shaking, but he does. Gibbs reaches over and runs a finger up and down her arm. He doesn't know why she's so afraid. It's just him, but there's that elephant in the room and that's probably why she's so unstable.

"Take a deep breath," he encourages.

She nods and does so. "It's not Bodnar. It's…I don't know what it really is, but," and she gestures to the hysterics that she's gone into. The tears gliding down her cheeks and the way that her lip can't seem to stay still.

"DiNozzo?" he prompts. Because she's not going to be able to say it out loud.

She nods. "Tony and I…I," But then she looks at him for the first time since she embarked on this little heart to heart and her eyes and so wide with fear that he can't help but reach over and kiss her temple.

He knows she needs it. "He'll be okay."

"We do not know that. And I put him in this position." She's crying out now and there's so much pain in her voice that he has to run his hand down her hair.

"Hey, easy there. Just…easy, okay?"

Every bone in his body tells him that he needs to remind her that this…this pain she is currently experiencing is why that rule of his exists. It's why he doesn't want them involved because it'll hurt both of them in ways far more irrevocable than the wound in her abdomen.

But it's them. So he can't because it's different. Everyone knows that.

"I just need him to be okay. To wake up." She says.

He nods. Yeah, don't they all.

* * *

He doesn't leave until the nurses change shift and the new day one offers to help her get cleaned up. She looks less than thrilled at the idea of moving, but as he walks out, he watches her agree.

Naturally, he finds his way back to Tony's room, but not before being interrupted by a phone call from McGee. He had worked all night, but came up with little. Gibbs sighs because that seems to go with the current theme.

Carly says goodbye to him and offers her hope for a better DiNozzo by the time she returns in twelve hours. He thanks her, but he can't help but be just a little bit more cynical than the nurse.

He's introduced to Ashley and she informs him that the swelling inside that damn thick skull of DiNozzo's has gone down. Not a lot, but enough that they're willing to bring down his sedation a bit and see what happens.


	3. Part III: Abby

**A/N: So yeah, I'm _that_ ****girl that marks a story as complete and then adds to it. _Oops_. **

**Oh well. Here we have Abby's perspective and she's very hard, but very fun to write.**

* * *

**Part III**

She was mad when McGee waited two hours to tell her, but that's all but forgotten as she frantically exits the elevator on the fifth floor of Bethesda.

Her emotions are the essence of chaotic. She doesn't know which way to turn, which hallway to turn down – which friend to inquire about first.

The two _Calf-Pows_ she downed on the drive over are sinking in and she's so overwhelmed.

Thankfully, McGee intercepts her. He guides her towards the step-down unit and then she's face to face with Ziva.

Abby lunges at her, momentarily forgetting the amount of pain she could inflict. She pauses, though, just as she's about to grab her and hold herself back.

"You're okay," she squeaks and she can't help but run a finger down her bruised cheek.

"I am fine," Ziva states and Abby thinks that she should have just responded for her, because that's such a Ziva thing to say while in the hospital and she doesn't believe it for a second.

"No you're not," Abby protests. "You're in the hospital. You have eight broken ribs and they pulled a piece of shattered glass from your spleen."

"Abby," McGee puts a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down but it doesn't work and she wraps her arms around an unwilling Ziva's head – that's safe to touch, right? – And pulls her against her.

"I was so worried," she says.

"I know," Ziva sighs, "Me too." And Abby feels Ziva's IV cluttered arms wrap around her and hold on for dear life and she knows McGee's surprised, but she knows Ziva and she knows she's not talking about worrying about herself. So, unlike McGee, she's not too surprised.

* * *

She stays with Ziva for a long time. She doesn't want to leave her. Abby doesn't like the idea of her out of her sight, but when she asks for the third time if she'll check on Tony for her, Abby agrees – though she's scared what she'll find.

She finds Gibbs – that's what she finds. He's talking to one of Tony's nurses. Evidently, they're starting to wake him up. The swelling's basically gone. Abby starts to cry when she hears this and then something clicks inside of her and she swivels towards Gibbs.

"I should get Ziva's nurse to bring her down here," she says.

Gibbs turns his attention from the nurse to her. "Abs," he says, "That's not –"

She cuts him off. "Necessary? Needed? A good idea? Gibbs, have you seen her? She's – she's …she should be here when he wakes up."

"She's in tough shape. Ziva should stay in bed."

"_Ziva_ should do a lot of things." She says and then her face softens and she waggles her eyelids at him and she knows…oh she knows he won't say no to her.

He turns back to the nurse. She's been watching this conversation with great interest and Gibbs asks if DiNozzo can have visitor. He can have a couple, the nurse responds, and she beams in Abby's direction.

* * *

It takes quite the convincing for Abby to get Ziva's nurse to let her take her down the hall to the ICU – to where Tony's room is. The nurse isn't sure how Ziva will get out of bed or how she'll handle the pain and Abby assures that if that's her only concern then she doesn't really have any concerns at all. Does she know whom she's taking care of? That's ex-Mossad assassin turned NCIS Special Agent on speed, Ziva David.

She can withstand pain for her partner. Abby has no doubt.

Abby is surprised, however, when Ziva panics after being helped into the wheelchair. She's settled in the seat and there's a pillow supporting her double twisted ankles and Abby's all but ready to take her Tony – the ever worried and underestimating nurse at their side – but Ziva stops them.

"I…I don't want to." she says.

The nurse gets a satisfied look on her face that Abby catches for half a second before delving back into professionalism. "We'll get you back in bed," the girl assures.

"No." Ziva cuts off. "I'll just sit here for a while."

And Abby understands that she needs space so she shoos the nurse out and shuts the door behind her.

Leaving Ziva to her thoughts probably isn't the best idea, but she doesn't really have a choice right now.

* * *

She waits exactly twenty-one minutes and she spends them pacing the waiting room. She doesn't want to go check on Tony because she doesn't want to see that he's awakened without Ziva there. That would be wrong and she cannot currently handle such a thing.

At minute twenty-two she heads back into Ziva's room and she finds her rooted to the same spot, staring at her nails.

Abby pulls a chair up beside her, but doesn't say anything.

Eventually Ziva does.

"Have I 'lost it', Abby?" It's a quiet question and Abby knows Ziva fears her answer.

"Because you're worried about Tony?" she asks.

"And not Bodnar." Ziva supplies.

"No," Abby shakes her head. "Tony's your…he's Tony. And Bodnar…he took your father and despite the fact that you're pissed to no end he almost took Tony too . . . you're still dealing with that fact in itself."

Abby receives a grateful nod from Ziva and she knows that she got it right so she ventures on. Because she and Ziva seem to be getting at something that Ziva needs. "How was Berlin?"

Ziva's eyes cloud and they wander, but she answers. "He was…top notch Tony." She smiles. "Reading me. And…helping…I don't know what I would do without him."

And though those few statements tell her a lot. And she means _a lot_ – they don't tell her everything, but they paint a picture and she can almost understand – she can almost see the scenes playing out before her. She wishes they weren't such an enigma, but they are and so she gives Ziva a reassuring nod. "He's going to be okay."

"I hate that I need him," Ziva continues, her eyes beginning to brim with tears and Abby tries not to look surprised, "but I do and I wish I could say that I wish I didn't get him into this mess…but…" she shrugs and the tears flow, "I _need_ him."

She knows she does.


	4. Part IV: Ducky

**A/N: So I have now changed this from _complete_ to _in-progress_. Take that as you will...**

* * *

**Part IV: Ducky**

He encounters them just outside of Ziva's sliding glass hospital room door. He is pleased to see that she's not in the ICU. The ICU Step-down unit, though it provides highly skilled and almost one-on-one nursing care, _is_ progress from the Intensive Care Unit itself.

_One_ of Jethro's people is in Intensive Care; he doesn't need any more. None of them do, really. So Ducky will take it is a win that Ziva's in the Step-down unit and he's even happier to see her out of bed.

But the look in her eye is one of sadness and utter confusion. And that sobers him. He had feared that he would be walking into a situation that had created far deeper wounds than that of those Bethesda's doctors were working so hard to repair. Looking at the Ziva before him, he wishes that his earlier prognostication – something he usually advises against – had been wrong.

Ziva and Abby seem to be in some sort of emotion induced fog and so he announces himself. "Hello, my dears."

Abby's head snaps around and she flings herself into his arms. "You're here," she says, "You're here."

He pats her back and then moves to stand in front of Ziva. Though an emotional Abby is not something to be alarmed about, he is concerned when said emotional Abby is coupled with a seemingly emotional and unstable _Ziva_. Ghosting an arm over Ziva's shoulders, Ducky gives her a knowing regard. "My dear, for someone who was in a serious accident, you look quite well."

Ziva scoffs and her eyes hit the ground. "That's a bit too kind, Ducky, don't you think?"

He shakes his head. It really isn't – save from the bandage that he can detect under her gown, the splints around her feet and the purple bruise staining her cheekbone, she _does_ look relatively well. Of course, that's ignoring the redness of her tear stained eyes and the way her bottom lip is quivering.

"Where are you headed now?" he asks. "A little outing around the floor?"

Ziva takes a shaky breath and goes to answer, but it seems she cannot and so Abby intervenes.

"We were…uh…going to see Tony," she says – her voice hushed. "They're waking him up."

"Yes, Jethro mentioned the swelling had gone down. It's quite remarkable."

"I'm just so glad he's okay," Abby says and Duck watches as a shiver runs down Ziva's spine.

Yes, he's also glad that Anthony is okay. And so is Ziva.

"Abby, why don't you go get yourself something to eat. I'll take our friend down to Anthony's room."

Abby looks apprehensive – unwilling to leave Ziva – but she also looks overwhelmed, by the situation, Ziva's emotions and what seeing Tony could cause. So after a moment, she nods, whispers '_I'll be back_' to Ziva and heads down the hallway.

* * *

He expects to find Gibbs down the hallway – possibly lurking just behind the automatic door that leads into the ICU or maybe leaning against the wall outside Tony's room – but he is no where. And Ducky does wonder if he is wrong and that Gibbs _is_ here, just out of view – watching, observing.

He can't wonder about Gibbs right now, not when Ziva's visibly tensed in the chair below him.

He slows his steps just a little, giving her a fragment of more time before they're suddenly in front of him.

And she's shaking now.

To his left, Ducky sees the family waiting room and he takes a detour and rather than heading straight to Tony's room, Doctor Mallard turns left and pushes Ziva's wheelchair onto the carpeted floor

"Ducky," she warns.

"I'm an old man, Ziva." He says. "I need to rest." He shuts the door behind him and settles down into a large and roomy chair beside her.

"The heart attack made you stronger, not weaker," she challenges.

"Maybe so, Miss David, but you'll oblige the old Scotsman, anyway."

She sighs, but he knows she will. She's always had a soft spot for him – he saw that in the early days, before she'd softened for everyone else.

"I am fine, Ducky." She paints a smile across her face, but he knows it is nothing more than a prosthetic.

"I am not sure that I will ever think that you crying correlates to you being fine, Ziva. I'm not sure that's your nature, my dear."

"I have a right to my emotions, Doctor."

"I didn't say you did not."

"So what's the issue?"

"I am concerned you'll see our friend, Anthony, and blame yourself for his current state."

She laughs then and it's sad and all knowing. "Ducky," she shakes her head, "You would not have said that if you didn't think that was what I was doing already."

He blinks and, yes, she is right.

"Do you remember our conversation in the bar? It was a couple of years ago and Tony was undercover with Dr. Jeanne Benoit –"

She cuts him off, "You called me a women with a wayward lover," she remembers.

He nods and allows a smile to cross his face, because it is a good sign that she knows where this conversation is going.

"And do you know what you look like now?" he asks.

"What, Doctor?"

"You look like a woman with an injured lover – one she is gravely worried about and guilt stricken with the idea that she put him in this condition."

"From the trip itself, Ducky, to the car ride home, I _did_ put him in this condition."

"In the circumstance, perhaps, but you didn't harm him yourself."

"This was not his fight, but he made it into his own and I…didn't," she shakes her head, correcting herself. "I _don't_ have the willpower to do it without him… And I…I could not live with myself if he didn't wake up or if he …he had brain damage or if he was paralyzed or …" She delves if sobs and he is sure that she is _not_ fine – far from it.

"Oh my dear," he sighs and pulls her into a hug. Carefully, he rubs his hand across his her shoulder. "It is okay. He will be fine. Anthony is strong."

"This is bad, though, Ducky."

He releases her and nods, agreeing that though she and Agent DiNozzo have been in precarious situations before, this particular incident does seem to carry the most consequence for her partner.

"Yes." It's a solemn affirmation because he wishes that he could say that she is over-reacting, but she's not. He only hopes she'll use such a reaction as a means to help herself.

Tears slide down her cheeks and she doesn't even bother to wipe them away.

"Ziva," he begins, "I do believe that he'll be fine. I _would_ tell you if I thought otherwise, but wouldn't it be prudent to start dealing with the feelings inside of you …_both_ of you… rather than waiting for them to come out in anguish in times of uncertainty?"

She swallows. Hard.

"I mean, you do not look happy, my dear – and I know these past few months have not been easy on you."

She's still crying silent tears and he feels that he should add that, "_Life_, my dear, Ziva, has not been easy on you."

She smiles – one of complete appreciation – and then looks to the ceiling. Ziva takes a tight breath and then looks back at him. "You've always known, haven't you?"

"About you and Tony?"

"About everything."

"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, Ziva, but I have tried to imagine what it is like to walk in your shoes on many, many occasions."

"Sometimes they feel tight," she sighs, "Other times, not tight enough."

He nods and thinks of all the many different ways he could interpret that statement. Ducky knows that that was her goal.

"And wouldn't your partner love to help." He says.

She nods and the ghost of smiles returns. Ducky imagines all the possibilities of visions of Agent DiNozzo floating across her eyes.

"Yes. He would."

Ducky waits a moment and then stands, because he knows that this conversation has no more room to go. She listened and if she's ready – then she's ready, but he won't push her. It's not fair when she's like this – he's not even sure if it's right when she's not.

"Am I still taking you to his room or shall we return to your own?"

"I'd like to see Tony," she nods, wiping once again at her eyes and taking a deep breath. He sees her preparing and her words only echo his thoughts. "I am ready."

* * *

**A/N: Despite my inconsistency in leaving completed stories alone, I'd still love to know what you think!**

**Cara**


	5. Part V

**A/N: Sorry this took so ridiculously long to finish. Here's the finale of my post-Berlin, pre-Revenge tag. **

* * *

**Part V: Tony _and_ Ziva**

It's faint – very faint, but the notion that someone is there with him, that's strong.

He feels someone there. Not just _anyone_, though – he feels _her_ there. And that makes it a little easier.

But not easy enough.

* * *

She doesn't want Ducky to see her reaction. He's seen enough of that today so she averts her eyes from looking at Tony when they first enter.

He brings her closer and closer and closer, until she's just beside him – close enough to touch him.

She doesn't.

Ducky puts the breaks on the wheelchair and stands beside her a moment. And then his hand glides the length of her shoulders and he's gone.

For a moment, the room feels empty. It's as if her partner isn't even in the room with her at all.

But then she looks at him, really looks at him – takes in all of his cuts and bruises and the wrapping bandage around his head. It brings the tears back.

He's so hurt and so fragile and she's only sure that he's alive but the steady movement of the monitors.

But he's alive and he's right here with her.

And suddenly, without warning, the moment of impact comes back to her. They way his hand held onto hers – his fingers between each of her own. The sincerity in his eyes when he'd said that he ought to thank Orli because he _likes_ who she is today. And the freedom she'd felt when she'd opened her mouth, not yet sure of what she wanted to say to him.

Ziva reaches forward and ever so carefully pulls his hand into her own.

She holds on, but it feels nothing – absolutely nothing – like it did the last time.

And yet, it's all she has right now.

* * *

He won't remember what initially begins to jolt him, but in the moment, he knows it's her hand – the gentle timidness of her touch.

That's the catalyst.

* * *

At some point, the silence of the air becomes too thick for her to handle.

She sighs. Ziva's sure that Ducky or Gibbs or Abby – but more likely McGee is lurking somewhere in the area – keeping an eye on her. She could get them to take her back. She could lie down in her bed and close her eyes. It's something she desperately wants to do, but that would mean removing herself from her partner and there is nothing she wants less than that so with the silence now oppressive, she begins to talk to him.

It's usually his job – filling the air – but she'll substitute, as long as it's not permanent.

"Tony, I…I…" she trails off unable and unwilling to finish her thought.

Ziva rubs her good hand over her face and is momentarily taken back by how much the bruise below her eye is still sensitive to the touch.

She sighs. "Tony, I am not good at this…so I'll just have to…wait for you."

She returns her hand to his and takes a deep breath. The whole talking to him out loud sounded easier in theory.

But talking to him and knowing that he wouldn't – couldn't – respond, that's too much. She can always count on him for a response. _Always_.

And yet, with everything stacked against them now, he still gives her the response she so desperately needs. It scares at first; she thinks she imagining it, but then she looks down and watches as his fingers ever so slowly curl into hers and take hold of her.

She's not sure, but she thinks she feels his muscles clench in some semblance of a squeeze.

Her eyes go wide and she can't help the tears the sting from their corners, because he's back and McGee was right.

He wouldn't leave her alone.

* * *

At first, he can't open his eyes. It's partly fear and partly because they just feel very, very heavy. He can feel wrapping on his head along with pressure he feels pushing against his skull. It's faint, but its there.

There is, however, nothing faint about her hand in his. The feeling of her grasping onto him is so strong and desperate and so he musters up the energy to curl his fingers around hers – give them something to hold onto.

Despite the beeping of the monitors and whooshing of all of the machines around him, he doesn't miss the little gasp that comes from her mouth when he pushes against the pads of her fingers.

Yeah, that's _his Ziva_, alright.

Eventually, he forces his eyes open and through a bit of a haze, he catches her staring wide-eyed at him, tears flowing down her cheeks.

And he wants to reach out and wipe those tears away, to make her pain stop, but he can't and so he just stares at her and hopes that she can understand just what he is trying to convey.

She's gotten it before.

* * *

Though she can't say for sure, Ziva is has a feeling that the moment Tony opened his eyes again and looked at her will be forever ingrained in her body. She can barely understand the feelings that bubble within her, but it's something akin to euphoria.

She's too overwhelmed to even realize that there's a flood of salted tears moving down her cheeks. That is, until he croaks his mouth open and tries to muster out a question, but his throat is dry and nothing more than a scratch comes out.

She shakes her head, _horrified_ that he could be in pain. "Tony, just, please..."

He cocks his head towards the water cup sitting on the tray table, but it's far from her reach and she remembers just how much pain she's in herself so she reaches across him and hits the call button, summoning the nurse.

It's less than fifteen seconds before Tony's nurse hurries into the room. She's a flutter of activity and it makes Ziva nauseous to watch her check Tony's vitals and help him sip down some water.

She drops his hand and closes her eyes as the girl finishes up and takes a moment to calm some of her emotions – though she's sure that it'll take a thousand seconds for her to come down from the high that is Tony's current consciousness.

"I can talk now," he says a few moments later and her eyes snap back open. Yes, he can. And though his voice is still just a little on the scratchy side, she can't help the smile that takes over her face. Because it sounds good to hear his voice – _so_ good.

"Well," she says, "That is definitely a relief."

"Oh, really?" he asks. She knows he's not _just_ poking fun at her.

She goes silent for a moment and her eyes hit the floor. He's always been far too skilled at reading her and, lately, he's gotten very bold at telling her just what he sees.

He squeezes her hand and she knows that he's looking for a response so she looks up at him and smiles. "Shall I find Gibbs and the team to see you?"

He chuckles at her and shakes his head. "Ziva," he says.

"You do not want to see them?" And she knows that _he_ knows that she's only trying to avoid the conversation that he's looking to have.

"I do." He drawls out. "_Eventually_."

"Oh."

"What day is it, Ziva?"

"Friday." She says. It's a stiff admission. "Friday, Three-thirty."

He sighs. "That's a long time."

"Yes," she agrees, "Tuesday seems like a lifetime ago."

Because it does. Those moments before the crash seem like they occurred in a different universe.

* * *

She tries to make small talk with him. She tells him about their hunt for Bodnar, but he's not listening. Tony's just staring at her – reading between the lines.

He moves his hand from the base of his abdomen and taps the side of her wrist. "_You_," he says, and later, he'll blame the pain killers for the amount of gall he has going into this conversation, "don't look good with all that pain in your eyes."

"Tony," she chuckles. "I don't look good in general right now."

"That's not true," he says. Tony reaches over and pulls her hand towards him until he can cradle it on his stomach. He runs his fingers back and fourth. "I mean, you're eye looks a little worse for the wear, but other than that, you're as stunning as ever."

He knows she can't help the smile the crosses her lips and he takes that as a win.

He can still make her smile.

She's not sure how long she lets him just hold onto her. It seems like forever that she is mesmerized by the steady motion of his fingers.

But, eventually, she catches his eye and admits, "They are all probably watching." The close proximity has always made her want to spill her soul to him.

His eyebrows furrow. "Why do they care? Aside, from the obvious reasons, of course."

She shakes her head, because he doesn't get it and so she's not sure if she wants to bother. "I don't know."

But, again, he catches her and his movements against her arm stop. "Yes, you do."

"I was just…worried about you." She explains.

"Just worried, huh?" he asks and she can't miss the blatant mockery in his tone. "So that's why you think Gibbs and the rest of team have taken up some voyeuristic tendencies?"

"You were in a medically induced coma." She protests, but it's weak at best.

"I know."

"Yes, I was worried. Very worried and scared." Her eyes darken and she realizes that this may be the point they've been hurtling toward with such a rapid speed, because she's frantic now. "I thought I had killed you and I was…I was inconsolable."

"Because you thought _you_ killed me?" he asks.

"Yes!" She says, but then she stops and she shakes her head and elaborates, "Because I thought you were gone."

He smiles at her and it makes the heaviness of her heart lighten just a bit. "I'm not, though." He says.

Her bottom lip quivers and she bites it to steady herself, "You could have been… And because…because I know that now I would probably…die … without you…" A sob escapes her throat and she wants to stifle it, but all Ziva can see is McGee standing in front of her, telling her how close to death her partner is. How he's unconscious and there's swelling in his brain and they don't really know what's going to happen.

His hand laces through her fingers and he squeezes. "No one died, Zi."

"That is not the point," she says and she wants to wipe her tears away, but she only has one good arm right now and Tony's holding on.

"No," he says, "It's not." And she doesn't know how he's so coherent and on the same page, but he is and he continues, "The point is that I almost left you before telling you that I loved you."

"Tony –"

"I love you, Ziva and I'm sorry the team had to watch you fall."

"They know," she says.

"That's okay."

"They know I love you too."

He squeezes her hand again and she thinks things might be okay. "I think they've known for awhile," he says.

She's crying now and she thinks they may just be happy tears. "I love you," she says, "And I couldn't help, but drag you into a fight that wasn't yours, but almost got you killed."

He rubs his thumb along hers. "I went willingly. There was no dragging."

"I am so sorry."

"I'm not," He says. "That's how we work."

And she nods because he's right. That's how they work. Together.

Not apart.


End file.
